'We are not abandoning Evereska,' Hadrhune said, 'but the situation is stable now, and we must think of our own needs as well.'
'When were you going to tell me?' Galaeron demanded. Hadrhune hesitated and looked away. 'It's a fair question,' Vala said.
Hadrhune let out a weary sigh. 'As you wish,' he said. 'The Most High thought-'
That was when Malik appeared behind the seneschal, clambering out of a circle of shadow like a cat out of a well. He let out a bloodcurdling scream and dashed half a dozen steps across the courtyard before running into Aris's palm and stopping to see where he was.
Turban half undone, Malik whirled on Hadrhune and said, 'If you knew what I had for a heart, you would not think that funny-not at all.' Seeming to forget all about Ruha, Malik started toward the seneschal, wagging his finger. 'It is a good thing for you that I did not die of fright in there, or the One would surely visit on you a hell a thousand times worse-or else laugh so hard at my miserable fate that he split his rotten sides.'
This last admission, forced by Mystra's truth curse, seemed to take the fire out of him. Malik spent a moment taking in the scene in the courtyard, then slipped to Ruha's helpless form and raked his foot down her shin. 'Hag! What did you do to my Kelda?'
Ruha's eyes flared, but she showed no other sign of pain. 'Why is it you care more for your horse than for your friends?'
'Because my horse is more loyal,' Malik answered. He reached under his robes and pulled out his curved dagger. 'Now answer, or your death will be even more painful.' 'No!'
Vala and Galaeron were not the only ones to yell this, but it was Hadrhune's staff that came down across the little man's wrists and knocked the dagger from his hands.
'Not here,' the Shadovar said. 'Murder is as forbidden in Shade Enclave as it is in Waterdeep or Shadow- dale.' He cast a meaningful glance at Malik. 'And our justice is swifter.'
'Then you have no choice,' Malik complained. 'The witch will never leave here until I am dead!' 'Or my prisoner,' Ruha clarified. 'That, we will never permit,' Aris warned.
Hadrhune considered this for a moment, then shook his head wearily. 'You place Shade Enclave in a difficult position, Harper. Either we harbor this miscreant against you or we allow you to violate our guest guard.'
'There is no reason to concern yourself with that,' Galaeron said, glaring up at Hadrhune. 'We'll be leaving within the hour.'
Hadrhune studied Galaeron for a moment, then nodded. 'That is your privilege, of course, but as long as you or any of your friends remain in Shade Enclave, Malik is protected as our guest and may not be killed or taken captive.'
'You would truly harbor a murderer?' Ruha demanded.
'He has not murdered anyone here,' Hadrhune said. He touched his staff to her binding, and the magic cord dissolved. 'Nor have you. The same law that guards him guards you-and if something unfortunate should befall either of you, we will know whom to execute.' Again, Hadrhune cast a warning glance at Malik. 'I'm free to stay?' Ruha asked.
'In this very house.' Hadrhune seemed unable to avoid smirking. 'Shade Enclave would never want it said that we made it difficult for a murderer to be brought to justice.'
'Justice?' Malik scoffed. 'You have no idea what you're condemning me to!'
'Not for long,' Galaeron said. He scowled up at Vala. 'If you'll get off of me, that is.'
Vala studied him doubtfully. 'You're not going to attack?'
'I'm going to leave,' Galaeron said. 'I'm going to go back to Evereska.'
Hadrhune motioned Vala off, then offered a hand. 'If that is what you wish, but the Most High will be very disappointed tomorrow.' Galaeron ignored the hand and stood on his own.
'He will,' Hadrhune insisted. 'He wanted to explain himself why the city was moving. That's why I didn't tell you.'
'Sure it is.' Despite his words, Galaeron took no steps toward the gate. 'Tomorrow?'
Hadrhune nodded. 'He would like to break fast with you. All will be explained.' Galaeron turned to Vala.
'One more day?' She looked around the villa and shrugged. 'What could it hurt?'
The humans were at it again, clambering around on Malygris's mountain, kneeling and standing and kneeling again outside his cave, chanting, singing, groveling, begging his favor. That was a snort. He had told Namirrha he didn't want the cult members dallying about outside his lair, but did the mammal listen? What Malygris ought to do was clatter up there and bolt the whole lot, but then he would have to go out and devour something, and he just didn't feel like eating. Dracoliches needed food only to recharge their breath weapons, and Malygris hadn't discharged his (hadn't even left his lair) in over a year-or so Namirrha had told him the last time the necromancer deigned to visit.
Something alive-something human-appeared in the shadows over by his number three platinum heap. A bitter sense of outrage rising to fill his empty ribcage, Malygris swung his big horned skull toward the intrusion. Could the warmbloods leave him not even his seclusion? A pair of dark silhouettes rose out of the darkness, not emerging from the darkness so much as peeling themselves out of it, and turned in his direction.
How the mammals had bypassed his teleport traps, Malygris did not know, or how they had avoided activating his alarm magic. What he did know was that he could bear only so much and that this entering of his lair was the final insult. He opened his jaws and loosed a mouthful of lightning. In the crackling flash that filled the cavern, he glimpsed a pair of swarthy humans in dark robes cartwheeling across his hoard and smashing headlong into his wall. They collapsed among his diamonds and lay there scorched, smoking, and-amazingly- more or less alive.
Malygris continued to look in their direction. When Namirrha had made him a dracolich, he had grown acutely aware of everything alive within a wingspread of himself, and he knew the two humans were badly injured. Mammals were fragile, so they seemed likely to die within a few hours anyway, and he was not about to waste another breath attack on them. If he conserved, he still had two good lightning blasts left before he would have to leave his lair and eat.
But the pair did not expire. Instead, over the next hour, they grew steadily stronger, first crawling behind a pile of gold coins fused into a solid lump by the heat of his lightning, then hiding there and recovering by the minute, speaking to each other in some ancient human tongue even Malygris had never before heard. It was the ultimate warmblood insult-not being frightened enough to flee or at least to cower in silence. Malygris would have torn them limb from limb, save that over the last year, his hideless skeleton had sunken to his spine in his nest of sapphires, and he simply did not want to abandon such a comfortable bed.
A voice, deep and booming, at least by human standards, called out in Common, 'Most Mighty Malygris, there is no need to attack. We come in peace.'
Malygris considered this, then said, 'If you come in peace, why do you cower behind my hoard piles like dragon hunters and treasure thieves?'
A soft clinking echoed of the walls as the pair rose from their hiding places. They stepped into view, revealing themselves to be a warrior and a priest, both dressed in the melted remains of some glassy, gleaming black armor. Malygris blasted them again.
This time, his electric fury pinned them to the wall and held them there, stiff-limbed and smoking, the warrior's steel-colored eyes and the priest's bronze-colored glowing like mage-light. Their glossy armor ran off their bodies in runnels and gathered at their feet in black puddles. Their swarthy flesh melted and burned away from their chests, revealing the black organs and dusky bones beneath. Their heels and fists hammered themselves into pulp against the stone wall.
Still they were alive when Malygris ran out of breath-limp as scarecrows and reeking of charred flesh and in places naked to the bone, but alive. They dropped to the floor and lay there groaning for half an hour, then finally grew strong enough to pull themselves behind treasure piles as they had before. Interesting.
It was the first thing that had interested Malygris since Namirrha had gotten his mate, Verianthraxa, killed in the senseless attack upon the keepists-an assault forced upon them by Namirrha's profane magic. Malygris searched out his legs beneath his nest of sapphires and bade them serve. He lifted himself out of the gems and clacked his fleshless bones across the cavern to where the two humans lay cowering. No, not cowering.
